The Choices We Make
by Judge-Douglas-Mason
Summary: C Story. GS. Grissom reflects on his life
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Wish I did, but I don't. Que Sera Sera.  
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There are many choices I have made in my lifetime. Some I would gladly take back and others, I would not trade for all the tea in China.  
  
When I was a young boy, I watched the interaction between my mother and father. How he kept her at arm's length for so long and when she lost her hearing, he left, making me "the man of the house."  
  
In my youth, I was fascinated by death and dying. I would canvass the neighborhood, looking for dead animals. I would bring them home, and in the garage, I would perform amateur autopsies on them. I had a small library of books about anatomy and physiology and other such books on similar topics that I had collected over the years.   
  
I found life with my mother to be educational, to say the least. I learned ASL, to better communicate with her. She listened to opera and classical music, to no end. I was the only person in my class that knew the difference between a piece by Beethoven and one by Mozart. In a lot of ways I was a recluse, spending my afternoons, after school, in my garage with my dead animals.  
  
When I was in my early teens, I was consulted by the local coroners office to determine cause of death among certain animals. It was then, that I learned how truly cruel the human species could be. I had "cases" where animals were poisoned, neglected and then there were the cases of purely negligent homicide. I graduated high school and went to college on scholarship.  
  
While in college, I learned as much as my mind was willing to absorb. I would sit up nights and read books on anatomy and physiology and my favorite, "Grey's Anatomy." I spent my college years in partial seclusion with my books and experiments. I was reading all that I could get my hands on, and then some.  
  
When I graduated, I turned to Entomology. I was fascinated at how certain insects would present themselves at a corpse at certain stages of death. I earned a degree in Entomology and later, began work with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Shortly thereafter I entered into the lecture circuit.   
  
It was during this time that I came in contact with a certain student. I was lecturing at Harvard and she was the most radiant young woman I had ever laid eyes on. She attended all my lectures and we even met afterwards to further discuss the topic at hand. We started out meeting at the local diner once during the week, but that quickly changed to twice a week and eventually it became every other night. She was like no other woman I had ever met. She constantly picked my brain and seemed genuinely interested in forensics. She was like a dry sponge, begging to be saturated with all the knowledge and wisdom I had to impart to her.  
  
My days at Harvard ended and when I returned home to Las Vegas, I felt a void in my life. I quickly realized that I missed her. When I learned of her graduation, I put in a word with the Crime Lab in San Fransisco, effectively securing her a job. She knew nothing of my involvement, and I wanted it to stay that way. After all, I wanted her to have all the chances in the world to grow and become the woman she is today. We kept in contact over the years and I was fully aware of her progress and dedication to her job.  
  
When it came time for me to make a difficult decision, an internal investigation, she popped into my head. I called her and asked if she would be willing to move out here to Vegas. She seemed elated at the mere thought. Within a matter of days she was here and with me, by my side.  
  
We worked in harmony for a while, then I began to realize that the feelings I had for her at Harvard had returned. This made it very trying to work with her every day, knowing that I had feelings for her. I battled with these feelings and in the mean time, I managed to push her away from me. It was the last thing I wanted to do. I was finding it difficult to admit to myself that I could have feelings for someone so much younger than I, but the feelings were there, regardless.  
  
Over the next couple of years, I pushed her farther and farther away from me. My heart was in conflict with my brain. My heart was telling me to be up front with her and my brain was telling me that this would be trouble. I had convinced myself that she would tire of me and move on to someone younger and more attractive.   
  
I know I hurt her. I never meant to, but my words never came out the way I wanted them to. Every time I would try to let her know how I felt, I would end up upsetting her. She would distance herself form me and I would feel like crap for hurting her. She was the last person in the world that I wanted to hurt, but I did.  
  
Finally, one night, after a lab accident, she asked me out to dinner and I froze, emotionally. When I managed to utter anything, it was a firm "no." She told me that by the time I came to my senses, it might be too late. This made me think. It made me think about my life and how I have lived almost all of my adult life alone.  
  
Then I learned that I was losing my hearing. It was another blow to me and my well ordered life. I had to face the very real possibility that I might lose my hearing. I wanted so much to tell her, but I retreated behind my walls that had been with me since adolescence. I kept her in the dark and she didn't know about my hearing until after I had the corrective surgery done. She was hurt by the fact that I did not tell her, this fact pushing her even still, farther away from me.  
  
I could not understand what she saw in me. To this day, I still don't know what she sees in me. I am so much older than she is, but that does not seem to matter to her. We share a playful banter, sometimes sexually suggestive. I love her, I think I always have, as long as I have known her. She does things to me that no other woman ever has. She has the power to turn me into a pile of goo with the slightest smile. Her smile will be the undoing of me. I think she knows that because she does it often. I will enter a room with her and she will flash me her smile and I immediately want to take her in my arms and make love to her.  
  
TBC?-- 


	2. What I Choose

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Wish I did, but I don't. Que Sera Sera.  
  
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There are some choices I have made in my life that I wish I could take back, not many, but still, there are some. Choices I have made relatively late in life, choices that continue to haunt me to this day.  
  
When I had graduated college and joined the Las Vegas Crime Lab, I was content, but felt a void in my life. A void I had felt since leaving Harvard years before. I was on the lecture circuit and while there I had met the most beautiful, enigmatic, brilliant woman ever in my life. At the time she was but a mere babe. She was fifteen years my junior, but she had a maturity to her that I greatly admired. We connected on several different levels, and began to meet at the local diner during the week for further discussions on my various lectures, of which she attended all.  
  
Our once a week meetings quickly turned to every other night and then every night. We stopped meeting at the diner and began our sessions at either her apartment or mine. We spent every waking moment away from class together. She was like a breeze of fresh air that had blown through my life. She breathed new life into me. Our sessions were not purely educational, sometimes we would go for walks in the woods and other times we would attend a series of sporting events.  
  
It was during a baseball game that I realized that I had undeniable feelings for her. Pete Rose had just hit a home run and as she jumped up from her seat to cheer, I realized that I loved the life she had shown me. She showed me how to live, and how it feels to love another. At the time I was trying my hardest to suppress these feelings for her, fearing she would grow disinterested in me. I mean, what could a young woman her age possibly see in someone like myself?   
  
After my tour at Harvard, I went home to Las Vegas. Through the years, I felt a certain loneliness in my life. I longed to share myself with someone. And soon, I found myself wishing it would be her. When I learned of her graduation from college, I put in a word for her in San Fransisco at the Crime Lab. She got the job and excelled. I had no doubt that she would.  
She was wise beyond her years.  
  
When it came time for me to call in a favor for an internal investigation, hers was the name that popped into my head. I called her and she came, readily. It was great for the first few months. I loved having her around. I loved the memories that we shared and the time that we had spent together. She worked hard, as I knew she would. She soon slipped into her normal pattern of completely immersing herself into her job. She worked long hours and I saw the complete and total dedication that she brought to the job everyday.  
  
Soon after her arrival, I began to have feelings for her, resurfacing. I had suppressed them for so long, that when they resurfaced, I didn't know how to handle them. I was at a loss for words and other emotions. I felt her when she entered the room. I felt her everywhere, in my office, in my home, even in the most private of moments. She would invade my thoughts and cause me to sit up at nights. Finally I gave in.  
  
One night I placed her on a case with me, so we could talk. I told her about my feelings for her and was glad to hear that she had similar feelings for me. We discussed the ramifications of our potential actions at length. We decided to try things out and see where they went. I was not disappointed. We agreed to see each other and keep it on the down low, for the time being.  
  
We had been seeing each other for a few months when she informed me that she was pregnant. At first I was confused, but that quickly turned to joy. I was going to be a father. I had never really thought about having children, but knowing that she was carrying my child brought a certain amount of color to my life. I was happy beyond words. I was even happier that it was she that was carrying a little Grissom.  
  
I choose to love. I choose to live my life with someone I love and loves me in return. I had my doubts in the beginning of our relationship, but when she told me she was with child, I could not help but to jump for joy. If I was going to have a child with anyone, I would want it to be her. She is perfect in so many ways it is hard to describe. So I will count them off.  
  
1) I love the way she wakes up in the morning, messy hair and all  
2) I love the way she concentrates on the task at hand  
3) I love the way she loves me, never holding back  
4)I love the man she has turned me into  
5)I love the way she steals the covers in the middle of the night  
6)I love the way she thinks of the little things. Things that mean so much  
7)I love the way she has stuck by me all these years, even through all my bullshit  
8)I love the way she looks, carrying my child within her  
9)I love the way she eats. Small bites and the little sounds she makes  
10)I love the way she.......I Love Her......flaws and all  
  
It is for this reason that I am going to take the next logical step in our relationship. I will ask her to be my wife. I think she will accept. I hope she will. She says she loves me, and I hope this will seal our relationship.  
  
Wish me luck.  
  
TBC?-- 


	3. SaraChoices I Have Made

Though I am in no way old, I have made decisions in my short, but busy life. Some of those choices I do not regret, others, I beg daily, for them to be reversed. I am not typically one to regret things, believing that one's life should be lived to the fullest. Regret was never something that came easily to me, however, sometimes I regret having made one of the single most important decisions in my life.  
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When I was a child, I grew up in a house with a loving mother and father. I had siblings and friends to play with. There was no shortage of camaraderie during my childhood. My parents owned and operated a bed and breakfast and people from all over creation would come and stay with us. I learned a lot from some of our guests. We had businessmen, government officials and everyday working class patrons. I would sit at the breakfast table and listen intently to stories of far off lands and different cultures and their customs. All in all, I would say that I had a full and fairly happy childhood.  
  
As I grew older and began high school, I began to distance myself from others. I found that friends that I once confided in, to be a nuisance. Friends were something I quickly gave up. I was tired of the calls about break-ups, chats about which boy was the cutest and rantings about family problems. I had problems of my own. I always did well in school, was always told that I was exceptionally bright. I was placed in several advanced classes and during my last year at high school, I began to take classes at the local community college. Shortly before graduating high school, I learned that I had been accepted to Harvard, on full scholarship.  
  
When I arrived at college, I was amazed at how immature some of these supposed brilliant people acted like fools. They would stay up all night drinking and partying. I did not indulge in this irresponsible behavior. I was there to learn, and learn I did. I had a difficult time, at first, choosing my major, but that all changed when I met someone; someone that would change my life forever.  
  
I was attending a lecture about the applications of forensics, regarding criminal activity and case solving. I remember it vividly, like it was yesterday. I was seated in the front row of the auditorium, legal pad and pen in hand, waiting for the lecture to begin. I was writing the heading for my notes when I heard the single sexiest voice I had ever heard.  
  
I snapped my head up to see who belonged to this voice, and saw the most brilliant pair of blue eyes I had ever seen. The eyes belonged to a man, about Thirty-ish. He was tall and very handsome. His hair was greying slightly and quite curly. He wore a pair of khaki slacks and a deep blue button down shirt that had the top two buttons undone. He was a paragon of male perfection.  
  
As the lecture began and he started to address the students, I found myself wishing I knew him better. I had never felt this way before, and for someone so much older, to boot. I copied down every word that came flowing from between his soft, supple lips. Halfway through the lecture, my hand began to cramp so I quickly shifted my pen to my other hand, never missing a word.  
  
He stopped speaking and began the slideshow. As he walked from the stage and passed me, I saw him look at me. Actually, looked through me would be more correct. He winked and continued his path to the back of the auditorium and the slide projector.   
  
We watched a series of slides of crime scenes and he gave explanations on all of them. His voice was like the Heaven's had opened up and Angels sang. I began to drift and to this day, there are parts of his slideshow that I don't remember. Instead, I remember having thoughts about this man. Thoughts that had no business running through my head. Personal, private thoughts. Next thing I knew, the lights came on and the question and answer period began. I remember my silent response to the first question he asked.  
  
"Are there any questions?" he asked  
  
I envisioned myself raising my hand in response.  
  
"Um...Yes. Would you marry me and let me bare your children?" I answered silently to myself.  
  
As the question and answer period ended, I was aware of the other students leaving, but could not bring myself to stand. Instead, I just sat and continued to stare into space. Suddenly I saw a hand waving in front of my eyes. I snapped out of my day dream and turned to see who the hand belonged to. To my total surprise, it was the lecturer. He introduced himself as Dr. Gil Grissom. I was speechless. I wanted to say my name, but no words would present themselves. He looked down at my pad and read my name off of it.  
  
"You are Sara Sidle." I heard him say  
  
"Um..Uh..Huh." was all I could manage  
  
He smiled and I was brought back to reality. I immediately felt flushed and very warm. He asked me if I had any questions about his lecture. His voice was so soft and soothing. I managed a few words about Linear Regression and the Carpet Beetle. His smile grew and it was then that I decided my life was forever changed.   
  
I managed to compose myself enough to offer a proper departing statement. As I stood and took my pad and pen, I turned to walk up the aisle, which seemed to get longer with every step I took, he called to me.   
  
"Um, Sara. Is there any place around here to get something to eat?" he asked  
  
"There's Goleta's. It's a little Italian place off campus. You...want to...get something?" I offered  
  
He smiled and accepted my lopsided dinner invitation.   
  
We walked to the restaurant and ordered our meals. We talked about his lecture and certain aspects of forensics and anatomy and physiology, where it has to do with corpse identification and determining cause of death. Before we knew it, the time had flown by and it was 2:00am. We left the restaurant and he walked me to my car. When we approached my car, my heart did back flips as he asked me if he could see me again. He explained that he was to be on campus for the semester, lecturing and teaching. I agreed to meet him not the next evening, but the following one. He sighed and thanked me. As I pulled out of my spot and drove off down the rows of cars, I could see him in my rear view mirror, standing.  
  
Over the next few months, we continued to meet at either the library, or his place or mine. The meetings were primarily about his teachings, but sometimes we would just go out and have a good time. One time we went to a baseball game. It was during this game that I noticed his behavior change somewhat. The Cincinnati Red's were playing the Boston Red Sox. Pete Rose hit a home run and as I jumped up out of my seat to cheer, I looked down at him and saw that he was looking right at me. After the game, he was quiet and a bit subdued. I tried to find out what was on his mind, but he gave no useful information.  
  
The semester ended and he left for home, Las Vegas. For months, after his departure, I was a wreck. I was depressed, but could not readily figure out why. Then one day he called me out of the blue. My heart leapt as we talked and it was right after we hung up, that I realized that it was him that I missed; his absence was the source of my depression. I buried myself in my school work and when I graduated college, I got a letter from the San Fransisco Crime Lab, offering me a position. I was ecstatic, I had just graduated and already had a job.   
  
I moved back west and settled into my new life and new job. I continued to feel the same sort of loss that I had felt at Harvard. One evening I went home and checked my mail. A letter had come for me from Las Vegas. As soon as I saw the postal stamp, my hands began to sweat and my heart pounded in my chest wildly. I sat on my couch and slowly opened the envelope. I pulled the letter out and was immediately hit by a strangely familiar smell. I lifted the letter to my nose and inhaled the intoxicating scent. It smelled of Grissom. I thought to myself, "Why would he be writing to me?". Unfolding the letter and reading it, the reason became apparent.  
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14th September 1996  
  
Sara,   
  
I was pleased to hear of your graduation and subsequent job offer at the San Fransisco Crime Lab. I have no doubt that you will excel in your new field of expertise. I always thought you were the brightest young woman I had ever met. While work can be overwhelming, remember not to over do it. Find a life outside work, something to occupy yourself and mind during your off hours. I have seen many a good CSI, burn out, because they let their work consume them. I hope you never become one of them.  
  
On a more personal note, I hope all is well with you and you have made a swift and fluid transfer from east to west. I will be in the are next month and would love nothing more than to see you again. I miss the time we shard back east. Feel free to call me, my number is the same as it was. Or, if you like, you can write me, using the return address.  
  
Best wishes in life,   
  
Gil Grissom.  
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I stared at the letter and re read it several times. He was coming here and wanted to see me. I was so happy, it was like walking on clouds. I quickly picked up a legal pad and pen and began to write him back.  
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20th September 1996  
  
Grissom,

Just got your letter today and I would love to meet you next month. I, too, have missed our time together and would love to welcome you to my home while you are in town, no need for you to check into a hotel and waste your money, I have plenty of room. It would be great if we could catch up on each others lives and experiences we have had since parting.  
  
Feel free to phone me at work so we can iron out the details of your trip.   
  
I eagerly await your response.  
  
Best wishes in life and love,   
  
Sara  
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I overnighted the letter and received a call at work two days later. It was Grissom. We made plans for when he would be out in Frisco and he graciously accepted my offer of hospitality. The following month, he came and stayed for a week. During that time, we quickly slipped back into our old routine. We would sit up nights talking and laughing. He told me about some of his cases back in Vegas, and I told him what was going on with me.   
  
Too soon, his time with me was over and when he left slipped into my previous pattern, as I did the last time he left me. I totally immersed myself in my work and spent little time doing anything else.   
  
Months later, I received another letter from Grissom.  
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Sara,  
  
A position has opened up at the lab out here and I was wondering if you were interested in it. I also need a favor from you. I need an internal investigation performed and I think it would best be done by someone that has no relationship with anyone here at the lab.  
  
Let me know if you are interested. I am afraid that I need an answer rather quickly.  
  
Hope to see you soon,   
  
Grissom  
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The letter was short, sweet and to the point, like the man who sent it, without the short part. I called him the evening I received the letter and the following day, my transfer paperwork had been taken care of. Apparently, Grissom had already sent in the request for my transfer the day   
before he sent the letter.  
  
I arrived in Vegas a week later and met Grissom at a crime scene. When I saw him that time, he looked so tan and genuinely happy to see me. I did the investigation and got into the rhythm of working nights. We were close for a while, working cases together and spending time together at the lab.  
  
A few months after my arrival, however, his attitude towards me changed. He became distant and rather cold. We stopped working together and I saw very little of him, save for the beginning of shift when he would hand out assignment slips. I tried to get him to talk to me, but he closed himself off.  
  
It soon became a very uncomfortable working environment for me. I dreaded going into work, and having to be around him, but not with him. It was with his coolness towards me, that my feelings seemed to surface. I began sitting up nights, listening to my police scanner and I slipped back into my old pattern of completely working myself to death.   
  
Sometimes, I regret ever coming out here. It kills me to know that I have these feelings for Grissom and that he doesn't feel the same, or maybe he does, but won't let himself explore those feelings. I asked him out a short while back and he turned me down flat. I was a bit surprised, and in my temporary shock, I told him that by the time he mad up his mind about "us"   
it might be too late.   
  
Sometimes I wonder why he really wanted me to come out here. He seems content to have me around, but when I enter into a relationship with another man, I could swear he gets jealous. Its like he wants me around, near him, and all to himself. Like a possession. Its very confusing, he won't date me, but at the same time, doesn't want me to date anyone else. The man messes with my head to no end. Its infuriating.  
  
TBC?--


	4. SaraWhat I Choose

I have made many choices in my lifetime. Some that were really bad, some that just make me shake my head, wondering what I was thinking, and others I would not change for anything. I will focus on the latter.  
  
I chose to apply and attend Harvard for my career training. I chose the field of forensics, but only after making the single most important choice I have ever made.  
  
I chose to attend a lecture given by renowned Entomologist, Dr, Gil Grissom. I had never heard of him before, but was truly glad that I decided to attend, for if I had not, I would most likely not be the woman I am today.   
  
After the lecture, we began to see eachother out of the classroom. We would meet either at the local diner or his place or my place. We would sit up nights, talking forensics and "bug talk". Sometimes we would forgo the educational and attend sporting events and cultural events. It was during a baseball game that I first realized that I had some serious feelings for him. Tom Seaver had just hit a home run and as Gil jumped out of his seat to cheer, he accidentally spilled his beer in my lap, not noticing until he sat back down. He apologized profusely and bought me a pair of Boston Red Sox training pants at one of the souvenir stands. He was completely repentant of his neglect. I kept telling him it was no big deal, but he would not let up. It was cool that night, and as we walked back to my apartment, he took off his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders.  
  
It was this small series of events that made me realize that I loved this man, that he had captured my heart and it would forever be his. His time at Harvard had ended and he returned home, to Las Vegas. Immediately after his departure, I felt an emptiness in my life. For the longest time I could not figure out why I was so down. I chose to bury myself in my school work. This went on until I graduated.   
  
Just before graduation, I received a letter in the mail stating that I had a job offer in San Fransisco, at the Crime Lab. I wondered how they got my name, and for a while, secretly suspected Grissom of having a hand in it. I still think he put in a word for me.  
  
A short while after I moved back west, I got a letter from Grissom stating that he was coming my way and wanted to see me. He came out and stayed with me at my place for a week. We had a great time and reminisced about old times. When he left, I felt the same emptiness that I had felt when he left Harvard. I slipped back into my old pattern of work, work, work. I worked at work and when I came home, I brought my work with me. I started having sleeping problems, so I bought a police scanner and sat up, listening to the calls go out.  
  
One day, out of the blue, Grissom asked me to move out to Vegas and join his team. I moved out there solely to be near him. Being around him was like being high all the time; his presence was my drug and he was my dealer. Just standing in the same room as him was intoxicating. I would watch the way he moved and handled evidence. He was so careful. It was hard to believe that hands as big and strong as his, could be so gentle and tender.  
  
One night after a lab accident, I had a shock to my system and decided to throw caution to the wind and ask him out. I was not expecting the response I got. He turned me down flat. I was upset and told him that by the time he figured out what he wanted to do with his life, it might be too late for us. After that night, I sank deeper into my work and began to shut people out.

Years later, three years, to be exact, he finally figured out what he was going to do. However, he was too late. I had already filled out my resignation form and submitted it to Supervisor Cavallo. Some part of me thought it would be a bad idea to give it to Grissom, I thought he might do something rash, like tear it up or something.  
  
It was the night before I was to return to Frisco, that he showed up at my front door. I was packing the last of my bags and I heard a rather loud banging on the door. I answered it and upon opening the door, I saw him standing there. He looked as if he had been crying, his face was red and flushed. I was upset and did not want to see him, but at the same time, I did not want to kick him while he was down. He had obviously done some heavy thinking and far be it from me to deny him the opportunity to explain himself.   
  
He came in and sat on my couch. I gave him a glass of water and after taking a sip, he spilled. He told me that he was confused, couldn't understand why I would want to "leave him". I pointed out to him that we were not together, thusly, I was not leaving him. He continued and told me that he had done a lot of soul searching, and finally realized that he didn't want to live his life without me in it. He said he loved me and that he would do anything to keep me there with him. I was surprised at the level of emotion coming from him. I looked into his eyes and saw the complete and total sincerity in them. He was being honest with me about his feelings for the first time. All it took was for me to resign, for him to come to his senses. He finally lifted his head and looked right at me and said, "I love you, Sara." My heart leapt at these words coming from his lips.   
  
After he had composed himself somewhat, we began talking about where we wanted things to go from there. I was about to tell him that we should start slow, at a comfortable pace for him, when he kissed me. He just placed his hands on my face and kissed me, on the lips, rather passionately, I might add. The kiss led to the inevitable and we soon became an item.  
  
We dated for a while, and then one day I found out that I was pregnant. I was a bit apprehensive about telling him, I thought it might shock him, but I was wrong. When I told him, he seemed happy beyond words. He scooped me up in his arms and spun me around in circles, until we fell to the ground. He said that it was the happiest moment of his adult life. He was going to be a father and I was going to have his child.  
  
One day, shortly after I told him I was pregnant, he surprised me again. I was working at the evidence table, at the lab, when he came in the room. He said he had a piece of evidence that he wanted me to examine. He handed me a small plastic evidence bag and I broke the seal. It was a ring, studded with Black Opal, from Australia. He said that there was an engraving that he could not make it out, and would I please look at it under the scope. I took the ring in my hand and placed it beneath the lens, and as I read the engraving to myself, it suddenly hit me. The words:  
  
"I Love You, I Always Have. Marry Me?"  
  
I looked up at him and a single tear escaped my eye and he wiped it away with his strong hand. I jumped off my stool and wrapped my arms around his neck, whispering in his ear,   
  
"Yes."  
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I choose to love the man that had captured my heart all those years ago. I choose to live with him. I choose to have a family with him. I choose to let him love me in his own special way. I choose life. I choose love. I choose Dr. Gil Grissom as my husband and lover for life.  
  
The End.


End file.
